Information Gathering

ORde grabs the two elves by the collar and violently shoves the out the stable door. "I do not appreciate being disturbed during my holy hours. If you cause further trouble there will be no mercy." He watches them retreat, grumbling all the way back to the tavern. He shuts the door and turns back to his two new companions. "I belief they vill not trouble us further. At least not tonight. Ve vill be safe until the morning." He motions from under his wagon. "Please, come out Priestess. The danger is over. Come, sup in my holy conveyance."

Nanine retrieved her staff as she slid out from between the coach’s wheels. Intuition told her the elves would return, but she fervently hoped the gods would prove her wrong. Stepping into Orde’s carriage, she gracefully seated herself and pulled a few items from her satchel. Seeing the deacon’s notes and quill on the table, she placed a thick piece of fishskin leather across her knees and on it laid one of her razor sharp blades and the two raw fish she had caught and gutted earlier in the day. They were on the small side but far fresher than the salted and dried rations she had been eating for weeks. With the precision of a surgeon the priestess deftly sliced away the fishes’ scaled skin and then flayed the flesh from the bones. Quickly and meticulously she divided the translucent, bloodless meat into thin ribbons. After sheathing the knife, Nanine paused to lower her eyes and touch the broad, thick bands of aquamarine glass and silver draped in tiers around her neck and shoulders under her coat.

“In Setkareh’s name,” the priestess murmured, her voice barely audible as she respectfully dedicated the meal. Her webbed fingers lightly traced the circular spiral—the Endless Wave, symbol of the goddess—engraved in the center of her necklace. Dropping her hand, she delicately selected an eye and a juicy sliver of fish and slurped them down. Gods it was good to have fresh food again!

Aware that most land dwellers found raw fish repulsive, but uncertain what sort of fare her two companions preferred, Nanine politely if somewhat mischievously offered them the strips of flesh, “You are welcome to share my provisions if they do not offend.”

Rummaging around in a sack hanging from the cloth wall of the caravan, Orde pulls out a large crusty loaf of breadand a hard wheel of sharp cheese. He sits down on a stool, and looks around his wagon. It was rather spacious for a covered convenyance, and even with his large stature, he and the priestess could sit at the round barrel that served as his table. There was even a cramped desk space shoved near the front of the boards, covered in quills, inkpens, smudged parchment, and dusty tomes. Above the desk was a shelf with boxy partitions, with each partition holding a rolled up scroll. Dried herbs and other curiosities were hung from the ceiling, and there was a flap that led out onto the coachman's seat. He set the loaf of bread down, as well as the cheese. He withdraws a jagged knife from somewhere under his coat, and holds it high, wiping a few suspicious stains off before using it to cut rough slices of bread and cheese for himself and the priestess. He eyes her ritual with the fish, before chuckling as she offers him some. "Zey do not offend. I have seen the wrinkled old monks of the far eastern temples eat fish in such a manner. I have bread and cheese enough to supplement our meal, if you wish." Looking to the elf, he sighs. "Now. Who vere those men and what did zey want?"

Iste is silent for a moment, staring down at the hay on the floor of the stable. A mix of anger and sadness flashed in the elf's eyes. They seemed to grown darker the longer she thought. Finally, she speaks up. "Those men were my brothers. They want me dead. I've been running for so long. I never thought that they'd catch up with me. Lady Nanine, I never meant to put you in danger." Anguish gleamed in her eyes as she looked up at the priestess. "They--I caused my mother's death when I was wrong. My father poured hot oil on my face in the middle of the night and I ran off. They've been chasing me ever since." It's all my fault.

Noticing the stains on Orde’s knife, Nanine frowned slightly. The dark crusty marks looked horribly like blood. She was even more repulsed when the deacon used the contaminated knife to slice the bread and cheese; she accepted the smallest piece of each, if only to avoid offending him. Gingerly she placed them to one side of the barrel top that served as a table. Consuming blood or red meat was forbidden in her sect. Nanine shuddered inwardly. How could someone eat food tainted with blood that in all probability had come from some thinking, aware being? Then again, it was unlikely that her companions attached the same significance to such an act. Setkareh only knew how the worshipers of the God of the Abyss could devour masses of gory flesh without choking, let alone claim to enjoy it.

When Orde turned to speak to Iste, Nanine quietly slipped the bread and cheese into her satchel. Perhaps she could give them to the elf later. She listened sympathetically to Iste’s tale.

“Please, do not blame yourself. I have been in danger for some time now; an additional scuffle makes little difference. There was no harm done,” Nanine assured the she-elf, smiling in an attempt to dispel the deep guilt and sorrow written in every scarred line of Iste’s face. Becoming more solemn, the priestess leaned closer to the elf and continued softly, “As for your father and brothers—if those terms may be applied to those who clearly hold no love for their own flesh and blood—if you speak truly, then they commit far worse a crime against you than that of which you consider yourself guilty.” Intuitively guessing at the gaps in Iste’s story, the priestess ventured to ask, “What sort of accident was it that claimed your mother’s life?”

Orde sat back, eating quietly as the two women talked. He frowned at the priestesses subject, however. "IT does not good to talk of past. What matters is the future. I propose ve discuss our escape strategy for the morning-if your family remains to harry us." He buried the knife in the table. "And also I think it is time we put our goals on the table. By working together perhaps ve could accomplish something."

“Forgive me for broaching such a sensitive subject, Iste, I did not mean to pry. Your affairs and your past are, of course, your own.” Turning to Orde, Nanine gestured, indicating a location beyond the stables. “The stream outside would be my preferred means of escape—or the site of a more offensive strategy. I would rather deal with Iste’s brothers here and now than contend with the danger of being pursued, particularly on the chance that they are part of a larger band, or decide to purchase the loyalty and swords of a few other tavern patrons before the dawn.”

The priestess paused to eat the last of the raw fish and to buy some time while she contemplated her next words. She hesitated to reveal her true reason for being so far inland. Though he was human, thus far Orde’s actions spoke as trustworthy, and while Nanine was willing to risk her own life on this judgment she was not yet ready to gamble the lives of her entire people on what seemed.

“As for my goals, finding a way out of this accursed forest without being devoured or murdered would be an excellent start,” she said wryly. Nanine considered for a moment, and then added as an afterthought, “So long as our course does not pass too near the sea…I am in no hurry to return the way I came. What of yourself, deacon? I believe you mentioned that you required assistance with some tasks; what might they be?”